Aussie Day

So lots of chatter online about the fact that I never put up any posts on this thing- really I have no stories, it turns out you all just thought I was a dynamo, I'm not really very exciting.

Last Friday, the day of days then, Australia day. Could this be my favorite public holiday? It's close, I would put it in a tie with Ekka Wednesday, The first day of the Gabba test, and Cup day- now I know, those last two aren't public holidays, but I've never worked on either so how would I know?

Lets quickly revisit some of the classic Oz days of yore:

The original and the best at the bat cave- two years in a row I think we had parties out their, griffo and her jello shot vodka's, alcholic watermelon, and the home brew kegs- hang on - Oh I'm back APF got a package from home yesterday, some super expensive mega weather conditions two man tent, he has now set it up in his bedroom- so I had to take some photos of him so he can show peeps back home that he has the tent- anyways were was I? oh, of course

Australia day at the Bat Cave- the thing I left out? the presence of the Challen sisters- who will ever forget the quality of the B A Tron rum fuelled rage attacks I managed at a couple of those parties, sigh.

Moving on, the Lockerbie Aust days- am I confusing things or were their two? I don't know but I can certainly remember the one were Kloss dogg kicked Ty square in the nuts and Ty cried- those were good times my friends.

There weren't two, I've just remembered where the one that I had forgotten was- old Humpty had one one year at the Valley Run house in Capalaba- Ashes split his head wide open and Steph was yelling "get an ambulance" we all had a good laugh.

Then Park Ave- arguably the best- why? cause no fuck showed up, just humpty, J dogg and B a Tron hanging out at Park Ave boozing, why was this good you ask? cause before the count down started or the cricket got under way Humpty and I were very bored watching Discovery when what should come on but a documentary about folk heros in other cultures- first there was El Santo- the mexican wrestling god who would later be reborn as DJ El Santo, and then Kapitan Kloss- the polish secret agent who always got all the women- it seemed appropriate - a legendary nickname was born. That afternoon is also memorable for the massive storm that hit the RE, 'no that's going the other way' said a sage like B A Tron, the made dash in said storm to the Gatta, the Governator (hooray for the new Mrs Bob- by the way kloss I brought them a congratulations your engaged bottle of champers- you owe me 5 pounds if you want in), and finally it stands as one of only two times I can every remember being actually invited around to the Kinross st palace- I've been there more times yes, but invited not so many times.

What's next- oh of course Hawthorne Rd- the purple house shirts, the blow up pool, the forty degree heat that almost killed the bird (was shithead its name?) and am I wrong but was that Humpty and Simba Kahn 1? (Humpty seems to feature a lot in Aussie day memories)

Last year, what a day, J dogg and I playing the immortal listen to the count down on the net to find out the first song an hour early joke, the worlds greatest game of street cricket ever, and of course Mick- thats two years in a row a poor showing from the Ayatollah (or so I've heard from this year)

So what would 2007 bring? I sense you leaning forward on your chairs.

Well, it started badly on Thursday when I went to the Australia shop to by my specially ordered cartoon of the News and bottle of Bundy- only I was heading home from my house sit in fulham so had my big backpack on, and no real way of getting the cartoon home- it was difficult.

Anyways, so we sat up waiting for the countdown for what seemed an age- so long that I decided to start drinking a little early, just so I could stay awake, you know... by the time it started I was fairly drunk- I called J in Chenomix, feeling a little home sick, reminisicing how it had been exactly a year ago when we had been at Lambert... he rang off pretty quickly.

Anyways, I stayed up talking to monkeys back home till about 2, the countdown was
safely on its way so I could sleep.

at 5:30 I got back up, and felt really really sick, why you might ask, well on inspection it turned out a little over half my carton and just under half my bottle of rum had disapeared, this only just being the start of Australia day I was naturally a little surprised (in my defense the stubbies were only 330 ml).

Anyways, back to the story.

Somehow the voters got it all wrong and Clown Prince only came in at 23- I was heart broken, it was not long after I woke up and my hangover was very bad. Then the top 10 came along, 7 (I think) gnarls barkley- my god I thought I even voted for this crap, then 6 was it the artic monkey's I can't remember but it was crap and I voted for it, the same for numbers 4 and 5- I was starting to get worried that my voting for this crap was what caused the hoods to be so far down, but then I remembered I voted for two hoods songs- there was still a chance, when, Damm number 3 the hard road- who would have thought fucking eskimo joe and whoever the fuck was number one?? oh well at least the hoods were number 3.

So I spent a slow morning recovering until about 10:30 when I had to leave to go for lunch with Uncle Peter and Auntie Eilean (i feel really bad about the spelling in this post but there is a reason- fucking microsoft have revoked my copy of word for some reason adn the internet isn't working so I am writing this in notepad- not the worlds greatest word processor) where was I?

oh of course, my trip to lunch- I was going early cause I knew I would need a couple of eye openers if I was to continue living- Mr Monkey was right you do get worse hang overs here then at home, must have something to do with not drinking as much water here as you do at home- did you know that the water in London has been throw a human at least 9 times? something to think about.

All this typing has made me thirsty, need water... haha I couldn't resist.

So anyways, I hit the Castle Greyskull (possibly the best nickname for a pub I will ever hear) for a couple of eye openers, and then lunch with Julie and Australian relatives- an enjoyable affair, made bad only by my realisation that when it ended I would have to go to Action Town (its real name) which is about as far down the tube as you can go. Old St is in Zone 1 (admittedly a crap area, a little bit the valley 15 years ago (when it was scary)), Fulham was zone 2, a lot like the nest, a little out of town, a little run down, but in such a ritzy area that any complaints would sound like two mothers boys who had never known a hard day in their lives

- did I tell you I saw Valinto Rossi riding around on his moped (really you say, cause I heard he was in Malaysia riding his real motor bike, well I say, it may not have been him...)

We keep getting side tracked and its not good. I got on the tube to Action Town which must be at least Zone 5 if Fulham is Zone 2, we're talking Cleveland, we're talking Edithvale- END OF THE LINE- type stuff, long enough at least so that by the end my couple of beers buzz was wearing off I needed desperately to get to the house of RDP and Mrs Bobby. When I got there I was sick enough, and it was cold enough that we decided to forgo the walkie and just get drunk before heading to the Red Back a little later in the night.

And oh my goodness let me tell you, the Red Back. If there are a couple of places that are central to the Australian experience (I'm talking Flemington on Cup day, the G on Boxing Day, Gallipoli, Kokoda- those sorts of things) then there are three things that are central to the Australian in London experience- The Shepard's Bush Walkie, The Church, and finally the Red Back- what a great pub.

One long room divided up into a bar section and dance floor, lots of aussies, lots of bad music that you just have to sing a long too- its the full package, we are talking the Victory but turned up a few watts on the energy front. It was a pretty massive night, we started innocently enough on the Snakey B's but eventually I think we were drinking Fosters Stubbies at two each ago. A dance floor hasn't had its foundations tested by such tearing up since Fridays a long long time ago, but the old firm of B A Tron and RDP still have it. We danced this way, then that, and then the other way again.

basically we are talking a good night had by all. It ended at about 2 for yours truly, I noticed that it was fucking late, and the line for the coat check was huge, so I grabbed a couple of beers and went and got in line, after a while I realized I had lost RDP and started looking around for him, but I couldn't leave the line- he was gone (Robby if your wondering I did get home fine...)

anyways, the rest of the night is a little scketchy, there was some Blond Yank in the coat check line, we were hugging at one point but that's the extent of my memories of her- I don't know her name, but lets just call her Annie 3, and then I was on the bus (one of many) that I had to take to get back to Old St and the safty of the Pickle. I ended up home sometime around 3:30 I think- but who the fuck really knows.

All in all it was a pretty good Aussie Day- fairly sure it was better then what I could have gotten at the Lodge or on South Straddie at least.

B

Summer Holidays

OK so I haven't posted in over a week. There are a couple of reasons for this.

1) Dav Rossi's incredibly harsh comment to my last post- it has left me broken, hiding under my covers for a couple of days, I didn't want to come out lest someone else tell me I was useless and no good.
2) It's England, nothing has been happening- what can I say?
3) The only things that have been happening have been looking for work, and boozing, so really I could have just reposted the last post, but I didn't think that would do at all.

However, at the urging of the readership I have decided to venture out and have a rant. Congress may not have liked what Georgy said overnight, but dammit he still got out their and said it- little topper that he is.

So two things to report, the first, I have ventured away from the Pickle for the week. One of Joe Knorks' very nice friends has gone away for the week, and since they live on the mean streets of Fulham requested that I house sit for them. So that's what I am doing, hanging out it Fulham, sleeping on a real bed, hacking into other people's unsecured wireless networks, and getting lost when wandering around the afore mentioned mean streets.

It is fun, but really at the moment my life is reminding me a little too much of the grand old days of Uni Summer holidays, you know, when you thought, you beauty three months off, but then by mid way through summer you were beginning to get bored, and then when Feb rolled around you realized that you had to go back to Uni so you wished the summer would keep going for awhile longer, well that's where I am at the moment. At some point I am going to have to get a job, and now I just want to keep being an unemployed bum for ever. Oh Well.

Second, It is currently snowing, I ventured outside to take some rubbish out, and low and behold, it was a winter wonderland. I can't say if it is wide spread, or if it has only been snowing on Radipole St, Fulham, but nonetheless the London winter has finally come through with some snow. It surprises me considering the rest of January has been rather warm, almost Bris Vegas in winteresque. But then over the weekend it turned real cold, dropped about 5-6 degrees during the day, and so now it has snowed. I do have to say it is a lot prettier outside, but is that really that much of a bonus?

Anyways, hopefully this will tide the Funtheque junkies over until the weekend when I promise there will be another post. I have huge plans for Aust day- I have to go to the Aussie shop today or tomorrow to pick up my bottle of bundy and cartoon of News. Should be a good day- no pool ponies to speak of but this years game of street cricket will rival last year's if its played in a blizzard.

The Slow News Cycle

So, nothing much happens when your an unemployed bum living on your sisters couch in the mean streets of east London. Hard to find anything out of the slightly mindless blur that was the last week that is even nearly newsworthy. Last night I even tried to do the obligatory blind post, however I fell asleep using my computer as a pillow so whatever wisdom I managed to come up with was lost.

So anyways, after the dizzying heights that were Dublin I decided that now was the time to try out one of my new years resolutions- to have 10 weekends off the piss in 2007 - as many of you know, I am a reasonable drinker, I'm not one of these 12 hours pass and I need a drink kind of fellows, no, what damages B A Tron is the three days each week where I decide that soberism is for the geeks and I follow my natural tendencies.

Tuesday was fine, just a normal day in the unemployed's lifestyle, a job application session in the morning followed by a nap. Wednesday, much the same, except we got a bite on the job hunt, the delightful Suzzy (I regret to say representing the Hays recruitment junta) called and offered me an interview with Transport for London- a huge public service company over here. So anyways Thursday was filled by a) the interview (which went all right) and b) the return from 7 weeks of Eurotripping of Bonnie and Kendell (APF's cousin and friend).

So after the interview I was feeling fine, then the two young (were talking sub 20's) girls arrive to party at the Pickle for the weekend- life was good. After dinner I decided to head downstairs to the bottlO- just one or two beers- wouldn't really harm the week off the piss...

Down three flights of stairs I descended, like a the Cougar add, 1 5 pack of cans, 1 bottle of red, and 1 bottle of white for the girls, 1 5 pack of cans, 1 bottle of red, and 1 bottle of white for the girls, 1 5 pack of cans, 1 bottle of red. OH MY GOD THAT IS A BOTTLE OF BUNDERBERG RUM IN THE FRONT WINDOW OF THE OFFIE DOWNSTAIRS.

I did a double, then a triple take- yes, the random wine store in the middle of Old Street is now selling B.U.N.D.Y Rum until the middle of February (it must be an important time to be an Aussie). So not really being in full control I walked into the bottle shop and ordered a bottle of the mothers milk (I couldn't tell you if I delivered on the other three items on my shopping list) with an new found vigor I bounded up the stairs and cracked the bottle of holiest amongst holies. For all of those non religious folk I recommend getting something you really love, but take for granted, then go with out it for 5 weeks (Kloss you blew it by coming to Prague) then getting the opportunity for a no questions asked reunion. Thursday was something like that- I like Bunderburg Rum. - there I said it.

So anyways, despite what you might hear on other blog posts- I did not drink the entire bottle right there and then

1) APF helped me out by having at least (and you never know with that freddie) one cup of rum, and
2) sitting here right now I can still see the bottle, and there is still something left in the bottom of it.

so there you go, let the tabloids have their fun, but we all know the truth.

So Friday, the week off the piss was shot, as was the week of solid job hunting, I wouldn't here from the TFL for London job till Monday (you will be the first too know) so I decided that their was nothing else to do but drink- and that was the pattern for the rest of the weekend- Friday night drinks at the Loft, Saturday breakfast at the greasy spoon followed by dinner at the Reliance and drinks at the loft, Sunday- a day of thesis (and procrastination) followed by dinner at the William IV (th) and drinks at the loft. A week off the piss ending up in a deborturous torture of pub feeds and deep pints.

So where are we?

The young girls left today- happy to be on their way back to the land of Oz, leaving a very jealous B A behind, dreaming of the beach and games of cricket that actually last the distance. My main New Years resolutions of: find a job, find a place to live, loose some weight, and cut back on the piss remain unfulfilled. and the Pickle has a strange odor about it, that apparently can not be solved as we are playing a game of rubbish standoff- who will win? will B A Tron join the ranks of the employed? will he ever manage to go a weekend without threatening the establishments rules for gentleman's behavior?

Find out all this and more in our next post- later in the week.

Peace Out

W M Lovell

Dublin

As my flight broke through the clouds to provide a first glimpse of the emerald isle the Garth Brooks' Ireland queued up on the Ipod- I couldn't decide if that was a good or bad omen for the coming couple of days. Bored of post New Years London I decided to head to Dublin for the weekend, I left on Friday and came back Monday night. The most exciting part of the trip I think was that the flight across cost about 15 pounds- very cool.

Friday

I arrived in old Dublin town around 12:30, by 1:30 I had dropped my bags at the Hostel and set off for the most obvious venue, St James Gate and the Guinness Factory. 45 minutes later I was still walking, apparently I should have taken a bus. Nonetheless eventually I arrived and did the tour - which was surprisingly good for that sort of thing, not a patch on the Nurdle version of the XXXX factory tour but still good. The best part would have to be the free pint of the Black stuff at the end- excellent.
Seeing it was now getting on to about 4:30- so therefore sunset in this ridiculous hemisphere I decided to set out on a pub crawl back to town, and a big night in the famous Temple Bar district. Unfortunately I didn't quite plan for how many pubs would be between the Factory and Temple Bar - so my plan for a pint per pup quickly became realistic. Through 5 pints I was still a couple of blocks short of the destination and starting to get a little messy, on the positive side though I was half way through the 10 pint challenge and starting to think I would easily reach the magic mark.

Although as anyone who has rang that bell will tell you pints 8-10 are the hardest, and as I reached 8 I realized I was beaten, I chewed through 8 and then 9 but then had to tap out. By now it was about 10:30pm (the last two pints must have taken an hour each) and I think I had started talking to myself- at least people (bouncers mostly) were beginning to treat me a little like a madman. Beaten I headed back to the hostel.

Saturday.

So Saturday, much touristing to do. Got going around 10 and headed to the famous Trinity College- home of the Book of Kells. I had a look around the college then went into the library for the star attraction, I thought 10 Euro was a bit steep to see some old book, but they had a good museum attached so in the end it was interesting. After an hour learning all about ancient book making and the importance of scribes in the monestaries I finally moved into the Book of Kells exhibit, and was confronted by this:

"Sic enim dilexit Deus mundum ut Filium suum unigenitum daret ut omnis qui credit in eum non pereat sed habeat vitam aeternam."

I did a double take, but I shit you not, the Book of Kells, written approximately ad 800 was open to John 3:16 - apparently the Irish custodians did have a sense of humor- I haven't laughed quite so heartily in quite a while- BRING BACK STONE COLD.

So anyways, after that I did some more touristing, but was really marking time before the important part of the day- Leinster- home of BOD were playing the Ospreys that night so I decided to go out and see if I could get a ticket. I headed for Donnybrook around 4 (3.5 hours before kick off) thinking I would easily get a ticket, then find a pub to watch the big FA cup match, then go to the game. Only this plan was ruined when I got out their and a nice old fellow laughed at me when I asked where to go to get tickets.

Defeated I headed to the nearest pub to drown my sorrows- which was a mistake as it was the main supporters pub and therefore full to bursting of jerks in Leinster gear- I got even more down hearted as the night went on and Arsenal (who apparently everyone hear hates- sorry Ashes) were beating Liverpool. Until I was finally saved about 15 minutes before kick off of the big game when over the loud speaker came the voice of my Saviour- five tickets available at the bar- saved.
Donnybrook is an awesome field, just like Ballymore but even smaller- max patronage must be all of 10 000 maybe less. The home team's back line included: Whiticker, Contempori, D Arcy, BOD, and Dennis Hickey- rock and roll. They rolled the Osprey's (who omitted Gavin Henson, but did include Brent Cockbain) easily- all in all a good night.

Two discussion points for a separate post include how the Argies with a fit Contempori, and Ireland could cause a huge upset and keep the hosts out of the second round at the RWC, and two how the ARU can loose a player like Chris Whitiker to a club whose home ground holds less then 10 000 people, and third (I know) is how good it will be if the national club comp can start to attract about this number of supporters- its just the right size crowd- easy to get a beer, but still some good atmosphere.

That would normally end the Saturday section of this post but for a bit of misadventure on the trip back into town. In the pub earlier I had set about drowning my sorrows with a couple of pints, then at the game for some reason I went out after the Bakers Dozen (missing by heaps I am sure) but regardless after the effort I was fairly drunk. I got on a bus back to town planning all sorts of mischief but fell asleep. I woke up after a time somewhere on the North side of town- I got off the bus and then realized I was lost- a fucking random street in the middle of nowhere in the rain- not cool. I wandered around for a while and finally found a bus stop- there were two random German looking backpackers who asked me if I knew the way into town- I gave them a bit of a strange look and said 'yeah just get on the next bus' - you see I was hoping that that would be right (I had crossed the street from where I had gotten off the bus so hopefully the next bus would be retracing steps...). The bus finally arrived and we all hoped on, but the fucking Dublin Bus Service only accepts coins for payment so all of a sudden B A Tron was in danger of not having the fair- but thankfully Hans and Fritz as I had decided to call them came back down the bus and paid for my fair for me- those Germans, a friendly bunch of people...

Sunday

So after my huge first two days in Dublin I decided that Sunday would be more low key. I went to the two big churches St Patrick's (of the day) and Christ Church and then also went out to Croke Park- the GAA home ground which at 82 300 is the third biggest stadium in Europe- it will host its first ever Rugby match on February 3rd- up until now it has been against the law to play English sports (Rugby and Soccer) at the home of Gaelic Football and Hurling. Those Irish know how to take their hatreds seriously...

After Croke I headed back into town and decided to have a walk around in Temple Bar- nothing serious, just a few brews. Hahahaha – it went bad when I got to my second pub and met Christina – a 35 year old Seppo from Cheyenne, Wyoming who was also in town for the weekend- we ended up getting pretty blind and having a huge night in Temple Bar- another big night.

Monday

I woke up in my own Hostel to the sound of rain- apparently my plans for a round of Golf where cactus, so I decided to do more touristing, I went to the Zoo which was good, lots of animals (as you would expect) but fuck all other people- probably because of the weather, which was also good.

(A Brazillian Tapir- Apparently best when roasted and served with apple sauce and a Waldorf Salad)
I then headed home to dreary old England- a 1 hour flight bookended by four hours of busses, queues, trains, and tubes- really Ryan Air might be cheap but the gates are so inaccessible that some times I wonder if its worth it.

2006 a Year in Review

Ok so I don't want to labour this post too much, but I was thinking back a little sadly on 2006 the other night. And it was a pretty fun filled year, considering I came over here because TK said I hadn't lived its a pretty impressive base.

Some things in 2006 that I will remember:

F1 in Melbourne
Sanctury Cove 1 and 2
Blakey's Wedding
Dav's Bakers Dozen and that girl at the Normanby
Q School
Reds Golf Day
NFC Straddie
NFC Brunswick
FOO in the Cox
Two birdies and subsequent collapse at Wynumm
Pacific 1, the near miss and the collapse
The Shark Hat
The Nest and the Shangri La
NFC Armidale 2006 (Annie, Cameo for Armidale United, 134 to loose by only 5)
The Gabba Stack A Thon
Chardies at the Whickham
Lucia D'Lamemmor
MSN at Accenture with Grealsey and Dav
Bledisloe 2 and Rob the 17 year old
Donga and Kates Engagement Party and the day at the Races and the Vase
Alex Attacks 1 and 3 - That mystery chick
Skinny dipping with Ahes and Cat
Roulette with Humphries and John Senden
Derby day at the O then the pink pants on Cup day
Club night 2 (Australia v Sth Africa in Sydney, worst test match ever)
Kloss Dogg and the gleam

So all in all a pretty good year, hopefully will be able to record as many adventures on this site in 2007.

B A Tron

The Lamest New Years Ever?

The day before New Years I was feeling a little melancholy, it got to about six at night and I realised that the lads would probably soon be getting ready to head to the New Years Eve golf challange and here I was in lame old England. Joe Norks and I had done little all day (a tip for everyone if you plan to go out with Joe Norks make sure you add two hours for how long it takes her to get ready to do anything) we had tried to go to the Spitlefield Markets but they were closed, then had an unispiring burger at a pub near Liverpool St Station.

So we decided to head to the Reliance, a charming local with interior decorations from the ship, The Reliance. Two of Joe Norks' Canberra friends came to meet us and we ended up having a largish night, my few memories from the end of the night include jumping in a cab alone and asking to be taken to a 'cool club', then meeting a girl in said club (no idea where the club was, but the girls name was spookily enough, Anne), then waking up the next morning on a random couch with clothing still fully intact- I bid a hasty retreat.

So slept most of new years eve day, trying to recover and come up with something to do that night. Robbie Paul, (or is that Mr Robbie Paul these days) was equally unfull of exciting ideas so we decided to meet for the fireworks later- I couldn't belive it myself as I said it.

So Smokey Joe Camel and I went to dinner at the Brick Lane, which was really just a whole bunch of indian resturants all located in the same place- big deal, I've been to Sunnybank before... Then we walked into town to go to the fire works, only we got into the middle of town faster then expected so ran out of Offie's to buy piss at, so we walked, and walked (the centre of town is pretty big) until we finally got near to where the fire works would be, when we reached a barraicade, the fucking Bobbies had decided to stop letting people onto Embankment past Temple, so we couldn't get in to meet Mr and Missus Robert Paul for New Years- Not happy.

We finally found an offliscence to buy some beers, waiting in a line for 30 minutes to get into it, and then raced down to the river banks to ring in the New Year.

The Fireworks were pretty well located, the London Eye and houses of Parliament giving it a nice back drop- but for someone who is generally underwhelmed by Riverfire the best of Britain just wouldn't do- There was no sense of Drama, no sound track, and no Dump and Burn!!! I mean really, what's a fire works display without the best of the Airforce commiting some needless pollution.

So after the fireworks we went home, in bed my 1 after having all of three beers all night- very, very lame.

In a post scipt- the next morning we found out that some fireworks had been visible to Tony and Amelie on the balcony of the Pickle.

A Very Happy Unbirthday

So Kloss dogg delivered the Ipod when he was in Prague so I was ready to get back onto the tourist horse when I got back to London, Julie had the next Friday off (two days before New Years) so we decided to go on an adventure. After a bold suggestion from yours truly that we simply go to the bus station and get on the first bus that was leaving, (our rules where that the trip could only take two hours (so we could get back in one day) and it couldn't be too an airport) Joe Norks and I set out for Victoria St Coach Station. We arrived at 9:31 and immediatly where a little disapointed with our Bus Station Roulette, unlike we expected all the Busess' left at the same time, on the hour or half hour.

So we couldn't really just let fate decide where we would go, we would have to decide, that was until I noticed in the O's that their was a 9:40 bus to Oxford, rock n roll I said, lets hussle, so we had to race over to the ticket hall, wait impatiently to be served, get out tickets then run to the bus, in the end our haste wasn't really necessary as we cooled our jets on the bus for a good couple of minutes, but anyways, there we were, completly following chance on an adventure to Oxford.

Oxford was pretty fun, we did a bit of a tour and found out all sorts of interesting facts, then went through one of the colleges (where Lewis Carol worked and later wrote- hence the Post title) (NOTE: am sitting up in the middle of the night watching the cricket, Clarke just got Cook for 20- sucks to be a Pom). (NOTE 2: Blaino I tried to find out your number but got no replies from the lads).

Anyways, after a few pints it was back to London on the bus, overall I have to say that Bus Roulette ended up a big sucess and I am sure I will be able to report on other bus adventures later in the year.

Billatron

Absinth and the Jungle Bar- Or a very Lovelly Christmas

OK so next up we headed to Prague for Christmas. This was going to be awesome, a white christmas behind the iron curtin in the Cheque Republic (anyone who has been there would get the joke) with Joe Knorks, Tony and his French girlfriend Madeline ( I mean Amelie). But then disaster struck for the first time. In the week leading up to Christmas fog struck London, Heathrow was basically fucked all week, half the flights out where cancelled and their were delays everywhere. So the day we left we had to get up at 3 am in order to get to a flight at 7. Of course it all went a little wrong when the house members of the Pickle Flat decided to drink until midnight.

So we got to Heathrow around 4:30/5 am and then had to join a queue to get into the airport, they were so considerate they had even set up a marquee outside the building just to control people. It was cold, fucking Englishly cold. And let me tell you about people not behaving well in queues, that day was not a positive advertisment for the people of London. Anyways, after queueing to get in the building, waiting to be allowed to queue to check in, queueing to check in, queuing to go through security and customs, we had to run to get to the plane. Three hours of messing about in order to get on a 1 and 3 quarter hour flight.

Anyways we got to Prague and their wasn't a flake of snow to be scene, but that was all right there were still two days to go... We caught a cab into town, to the majestic Atlantic Hotel and as we were too early for checking in we decided to adjourn to the bar for a drink. In we walk, noting as we entered that the bar advertised Absinth on its menu for only 69 koruna (no idea on the spelling) which works out to about 4 3.5 Aussie dollars- nice and cheap place old Praha.

So we walk into this bar and I notice some European jerk sitting at a table facing the wall. Funny I thought to myself, you don't expect to see many ex Warsaw Pact mother fuckers with necks that short and thick. Then I noticed something else, funny, you don't expect to see a hair cut that looks quite that bad from behind in too many places in the world. Then finally I saw his shoes, Funny I thought, I didn't think the Cheques would be any good at making cowboy boots. Then it all clicked, it was old Kapitan Kloss himself, obviously there on some deep cover assignment (his cover being obvious tourist (he had two guide books on the table next to him and his oversized camera)). What a surprise it was for him, on the other side of the world, ready to commit some dastardly deed when in walked his bigger brother and sister ready to ruin his cover.

With his mission comprimised he decided to hang out with us for christmas, which was good. The first time Team LoveTrain had performed with all members present in a long, long time. So fastforward to later that night, where in down town Praha, slightly off the beaten track in a Communist era themed pub. I'm talking guns, and maps of the USSR on the wall, pretty cool. Anyways, we started getting on it but after traveling thru a couple of genuine Prague pubs the night was starting to flag, people hadn't had enough sleep and we just weren't drinking fast enough. After losing Tony and Amelie- they needed some 'alone' time, we gave into temptation and decided to hit an Irish Bar- Rocky O'Toole's (just of Wencelsas square- big thumbs up). We arrived and having had enough of fucking about I ordered us a round of Absinth's- Lets see if these Eastern Europeans really know how to make a spirit.

It turns out they did, after much fucking about lighting sugar, and nearly burning down Rockies thanks to a slight mistake with the flame getting into the cup, we finally achieved what we really went their for- Absinth, hallucinations here we come- now seeing that we ahd all seen Eurotrip (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0356150/) we took some elaborate precautions to not end up pashing each other- basically we just started argueing with each other- Tommy wouldn't have enjoyed it- and wow, those Absinths, they'll get you ever time.

Anyways, to cut what is becoming a long story a little short we ended up in the Jungle Bar, Praha's best gentlemens club and settled in for a long nights looking at naked girls. It turned out to be a really long night, getting back to the hotel at 7 am. Keeping in mind kloss had traveled around the world, and we had been up since 3 am the preceding day, I think it was a fairly impressive night out.

But I was wrong, Absinth's had a hidden effect, when I woke at around 1 in the afternoon I was suffering from by far the worst hang over I have ever experienced, most people would attest that I can normally back up fairly strongly (follow the link to the Gabba Stack A Thon if you don't believe) but I was done and dusted, it turned out so where the other two members of Team LoveTrain so we ended up writing off a complete day of our Prague experience. We ended up having to do all our sight seeing on Christmas day...

That's about all thats real exciting from that trip- although on the Tourist side I will talk up Prague to anyone who asks, the old town square and christmas markets, the Charles Bridge, the Castle (especially the amazing gothic St Vitus) and basically anything else up the top of the hill where the Castle is, are absolutly worth while. However I will say if you get sucked in by the White Christmas angle, dont as we didn't see anything that even looked like snow, but you can't have everything.

Billatron

P.s.- This is not the definative post on Christmas in Prague, Joe Knorks has spent the day working on a post for her sight which I will link in when it goes up- should be good.